


some say it ends in fire

by vivevoce



Category: Young Justice, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: 15 year old waking up in a 23 year old's body, Break Up, Clones, Drug Addiction, Guilt, Identity Issues, M/M, Self-Denial, Self-Discovery, and they tell me romance is dead, can't you tell from all the happy tags?, it's very confusing., letting go, readjusting to life after being in a block of ice, technically, this is a fun little fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivevoce/pseuds/vivevoce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He goes by Arsenal now." Roy snorts. "Tell me, do you go for the dangerous ones, or just the ones who look like me?" </p><p>In which Red Arrow leaves and Roy Harper comes back. Wally adjusts, but only after a fashion. Existentialism, denial and identity crises follow shortly. So does coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some say it ends in fire

**Author's Note:**

> Everything here takes place after S2.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice or the poem "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost. This has been written partially for a prompt on livejournal but I slightly reinterpreted it. Or well, completely reinterpreted it. Hope you like this anyway, bbb35 (: Thanks for your patience.

 

* * *

 

  _ **prelude**_

* * *

__

Star City  
January 14, 8:19pm  
 **2017**

 

"Just hear me out first, alright?"

Wally takes a step back, folding his arms across his torso for warmth. His breath has already started to come out in long white clouds of steam. They need to get moving before his blood freezes solid in his veins. Wally almost laughs. Palo Alto's spoiled him if he can't even handle winter back in Star City.

"I'm listening," Wally replies.

Roy steadies his gaze on him, hands in his pockets. He shrugs one shoulder, which makes a faintly mechanical noise, before grinning.

"It's cold. I have five bucks. Let's get some coffee."

Wally glances at him warily, already knowing where this was going. "Roy…"

"Relax," Roy says, showing Wally his empty palms like he would a cop. "I'm not trying anything funny here."

Wally does _not_ want to have a repeat of this argument, so he says nothing.

Roy tilts his head. "It's just coffee."

 _Shit_. They both know what Wally's thinking, it's just that neither of them are willing to come out and say it. Wally wracks his brains in frustration, trying to come up with a better way to decline. He hesitates too long, and a look of resignation crosses Roy's face.

"I know I'm not him, Wally," he says bluntly. "I get it."

Guilt knots like a steel anaconda in Wally's stomach.

Ouch. Right on the nose.

Roy turns his head away coolly. "Just thought I'd ask."

"Hey, don't apologize!" Wally smiles brightly, trying to ease the situation. "You know I can't turn away food."

Roy just shrugs again, his shoulder grating in protest. "Can we get out of the street while we decide this at least? Metal contracts in the cold, you know."

"Sure thing, Rudolph." Wally grins, this time playfully, before shouldering past Roy onto the crosswalk. "Would've thought being on ice for a few years would've given you a thicker skin." It takes Roy a few seconds to get the joke.

"Hey!"

Wally just hums _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ loudly over his shoulder as he crosses the street, not waiting for Roy to catch up. He has the door to the corner Starbucks open before Roy can formulate a scathing come-back, much less realize where they've been heading. There's a split second where Roy's eyebrow lifts in surprise, before a half-smile slowly graces his features.

"Classy," Roy snorts. His cheeks and lips are chapped with cold; Wally watches the tip of his nose turn redder. "That's something a sensitive person would say. Artemis would kick your ass if she heard."

It's a weird thing to hear, coming from someone with Red Arrow's face. Wally has to remind himself that Artemis never met Roy during her and Red Arrow's rivalry and would therefore have no reason to hate him. On the contrary, next to Dick, she and Speedy got along quite well.

"Yeah well, luckily for my ass, Artemis isn't here."

She really _had_ almost kicked his ass the first time he cracked a joke about it; but Roy had laughed back then too, so he figured he was safe. They're not entirely distanced yet from Roy's time being replaced—but then, Wally's pretty sure that they'll never be, and skirting around the topic wouldn't make it go away. In any case, Roy's tough enough not to think about that nightmare period of his life where there was nothing; nothing but absence and cryogenic tubes and Cadmus.

"Well, it's not like I'm friends with you for your sensitivity," Roy goes on to reply, amused.

"Must be my great looks, then. I knew you only wanted me for my body."

Roy laughs quietly this time, and it's a sound that sends hairs prickling restlessly on the back of Wally's neck.

It shouldn't be this easy.

"I didn't tell you? Freckles turn me on."

He thinks Roy's kidding until he smiles, and Wally is painfully aware of how much they have to lose should anything go wrong.

"Shut up. It's not like you don't get them too."

"I don't. Navajo blood, remember?"

"Weren't you _raised_ Navajo?" Wally counters. "That doesn't count."

He can't do this. Not while Kaldur's still deep undercover and Dick is off being Nightwing.

"Of course it does," Roy scoffs.

Wally's worked too hard, building Roy's trust and friendship. He feels like he's taking advantage of something. Already, he's aware that he's the closest thing Roy has to stability in his life, next to Ollie's flightiness and Dinah's busy schedule.

"Whatever. Just don't be trying for any scholarships on that."

Roy playfully checks Wally with his shoulder, a move that worked better when Roy had been three inches taller. Wally tries to imagine, for the millionth time, how this must feel to him; to pick up on a friendship that began years ago, and only have the last few months' worth of memories to show for it. It's amazing that he trusts Wally this much at all, really.

"Too bad college isn't that high on my list of priorities right now then." At Wally's scandalous look, Roy shrugs, a dismissive roll of his shoulders. "Besides, Ollie's got that covered."

"Careful, your silver spoon's showing," Wally starts, before he notices the flat-screen TV behind the counter. It's tuned to the local news channel.

_"—police reports say that ring members were dispatched within the last hour with the aid of former Star City hero, Red Arrow. Suspects were left net-bound on the corner of Fifth and Rodchester…"_

"Come on." Wally jolts to hear Roy's soft voice, nudging him forwards in line. He avoids the neutral, knowing look on Roy's face. "Ordering?"

"Uh, yeah. Just… give me a sec."

"Surprised that he's back," he hears someone say in front of him. "Thought he left Star City for good."

"So did I," another patron says, and Wally tries to ignore them, pretending to be looking at the menu behind the counter. "Guess he's still keeping tabs on us, then."

"Lucky us. He seems different these days though."

"Not as clean cut?"

"Yeah. Rough life, probably."

Wally's fingers tighten painfully into his palm.

"Drugs. That's always the answer."

"What, a hero? Think about what you're saying."

"Hero, not a saint." There's laughter as they scoot their chairs back and get up to leave. "Throw that scone away if you're not gonna eat it…"

"Wally." Wally is startled to realize that he's been holding up the line. He flushes crimson, heat pooling in his ears.

"Uhm, sorry. Was deciding." He notices Roy's gaze trained on his face, and chooses to ignore it. "For here, grande espresso macchiato," he tells the barista.

"Coming right up."

There's a distinct lull to the rest of their conversation as they sit, nursing their coffees. Wally plays with his more than drinks it. Finally, Roy stares at him so pointedly that Wally is forced to drop his eyes to the table.

"They don't know what they're talking about," Roy counsels, voice even, and Wally feels guilty for putting him in this situation.

"Course they don't." Wally takes a sip. It's somehow still scalding; he's put in too much sugar. "I've just forgotten how gossip can be. Uncle Barry says you can either laugh or get mad when you hear stuff like that."

"Ever miss it?" Roy asks offhandedly, rapping an uneven tattoo against the window with his knuckles.

"Nawh, I can always kick a purse-snatcher in the face while in civvies. It's not a big loss."

"Sure," Roy shrugs noncommittally, taking a sip.

They sit watching the windows fog up from the inside, not speaking.

* * *

 

  **some say it ends in fire**

* * *

 

 

Washington DC  
December 31, 1:24am  
 **2010**

Wally's gauntlets shake.

He can't have heard that right. But no, there it is again: "He's a clone," in that same flat, factual tone of Batman's that allows no further arguments. "For the time being, the League is unable to lock down on his global position," Batman continues, eyelets narrowing into white slits as he draws the coordinates up.

"He is now a fugitive," Red Tornado adds in. "Marked and dangerous."

Roy? No, that's…

"But… what happened to the real Roy?" he hears Robin ask, as if from a distance, and somehow Wally's whirlwind brain is still keeping pace with this—even as the rest of him struggles to comprehend _three years_ and _infiltrated the League_ and _Vandal Savage_. He doesn't think he wants to hear any more of this, but Batman takes one look at them before offering up:

"We don't know."

The punches keep coming.

"We may have to face the reality that the real Roy Harper is dead."

His words are like the recoil from a gun. All of them absorb the shock, letting the sound ring in their ears.

Inhale, exhale. Slow. Stop.

"The clone Roy." How—how the _hell_ can Kaldur still be this calm? "The team will find him."

"Negative. Red Arrow is a member of the Justice League now."

The truth, rolling him in and down, over and over again.

"Leave him to us."

Roy.

A slow roar, beginning in his head. He can't deal with this.

 

Wally examines Red Tornado's circuitry carefully, trying to figure out a clue as to why he shut down. Nothing doing. This was Robin's forte, not his. He draws the cable out, quickly unwrapping the rest of the wire.

"Hey, KF," he feels a glove catch at the back of his suit. He stops his fiddling.

"Are you…" Robin hesitates. "Alright?"

 _That's a pretty loaded question,_ he thinks.

"Peachy," Wally mutters brusquely. He can already feel Robin's eyes on the back of his head, diamond-sharp mind delicately trying to figure out which angle best to attack from.

"Look," Robin begins quietly, "I know you'd probably rather be with Kaldur's group looking for Roy but…"

Wally takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Hey Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's get to work," he says, dissolving the question before Robin can ask it. _Drop it._

"But—"

**Recognized, Black Canary 1-3.**

The whir of the zeta tubes distracts them both, and Wally looks away with relief.

 

Kaldur is the one who ultimately brings Roy back. _Of course he would_ , Wally thinks hollowly, even though he doesn't exactly begrudge him the duty. When push comes to shove, best friend trumps love interest, and that's all there is to it.

 _But Kaldur hadn't known the difference either,_ Wally realizes, and he chills more with that knowledge than with any insecurity or fear. Meanwhile, the drone of the bioship drowns out the sound of Roy's voice, but Wally struggles to listen again, to make sense of this entire horror story. He measures the regret and distress in Roy's voice, between the tell-tale rasps and heavy silences. He listens, because he can't bring himself to look at him.

Wally had thought himself a good judge of character, once. Now all he can think is, _this is how he would have sounded_. All he can wonder is, _where did the other one go?_ The real Speedy. The one he… would have liked to know.

Wally hunches back in his seat, neck tense as steel cables as he stares out the glass. Without asking, Artemis slips her hand into his and squeezes tightly. She has rough calluses on the insides of her finger pads and palms; just like Roy's. Wally takes his hand back and focuses on the mission.

 

Kaldur is the one to come up with the attack plan. They're lucky—no, it's a miracle they were able to manufacture a cure at all. Black Canary shakes blond hair from her face as she pushes herself from the edge of unconsciousness, hand braced against her temple. Roy had subjected to his without argument and his passiveness scares Wally. All the fight is gone from him, all the irrational anger. When he wakes up, Wally makes sure he's out of the room. He can't take that unguarded expression in the seconds before Roy's face clears.

For once he's not fast enough, because there's a hand on his shoulder. Wally knocks it away with one arm, whirling around in the same motion. Roy doesn't have words to say to him and Wally has none to say in return. Every option is turned over and discarded, dropped from the edge of his mind as if too hot to touch.

"I'm sorry," Roy finally begins before Wally takes a step back.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Wally says flatly. His entire body tenses. "Black Canary and Red Tornado I can trust with this. Not you."

He's angry. That's good. He'd rather feel anger than helplessness, rather lash out than admit that he's scared.

"You don't seem to have any trouble trusting the Superman look-alike," Roy snaps, bristling in the split second before he controls himself. "I didn't know. Okay? I'm going to fix this."

In that second Wally feels the insane urge to tip him over. He wants to be the one to snap that tenuous, self-hating thread of sanity. Roy never acted like this.

"Trust me."

"I trusted _Roy_ ," Wally throws back hotly, without thinking. "You knew that. You _used_ that."

Not one of his prouder moments, but he can't bring himself to care. That split second of hurt and rage in Roy's face is exactly what he was aiming for—but it doesn't make him feel any better, doesn't kill this urge to run, run before he says something else he can regret. There's too much out of his control right now; too much he has to do with the fate of the entire League on their shoulders and _god, Uncle Barry, how was he going to fight his own_ —

It comes too fast for him to fight.

Just a finger tilting his chin up and he goes motionless, conditioned. He feels an ugly urge to bite those lips pressed soothingly against his, but Roy draws away before he gets the chance.

"I'm sorry," Roy says, before he walks away.

 

Washington DC  
February 13, 9:06pm  
 **2016**

"No." Wally's fist tightens on his phone. "I'm retired, Nightwing."

"Wally, we need you here."

"No, I'm pretty sure you don't."

"You haven't talked to him in five years. Maybe it's time to put things in the past."

Wally takes a deep breath, massaging his temples. "Dick, listen to me. Red Arrow doesn't want to talk to me. He's made that pretty damn clear." Wally's mildly proud of how steady his voice is as he says all this. "Me being there won't be doing you any favors."

"Black Canary asked for you specifically," Dick says and Wally stares blankly at his ceiling for another second.

"Did she now?" he asks dryly.

"Wally… we're his friends. You… well. Whatever happened between the two of you didn't change that, did it?"

Wally hates it when Dick starts getting reasonable. He's not being left with many options.

"You've got ten minutes to decide. Green Arrow's picked up his coordinates, and we're rendezvousing. Coming or not?"

"Need me to bring anything?" Wally asks, as he slips on his running shoes.

"Just your charming personality."

"Great." Wally says heavily. "Tell me where."

 

Washington DC  
December 31, 10:24pm  
 **2010**

 

 The chip sinks into Flash's neck and his uncle goes still, slumping against the iron floor. Green Lantern and Aquaman are out for the count beside him, and Wally steps away in relief, bruises mending themselves under his suit.

"We need to meet back with Robin," are Artemis's next words as she nocks an arrow.

"Kid Flash, you and Artemis go ahead," Kaldur commands. "I will stay behind and debrief my King, Green Lantern and the Flash when they awaken."

Wally nods hesitantly before picking Artemis up and racing ahead of Kaldur. He needs to make sure the others are handling their end. It's hardly a minute later when Megan's voice rings urgently in their minds. They must be close within range. _Artemis! Kid Flash!_ Vibrations shake the ground beneath their feet and Wally tries not to wonder how hard Conner has to be thrown for them to be able to feel it from out here. _We have Wonder Woman contained but Rocket needs backup, soon. Black Canary and Red Tornado are both down with injuries and Red Arrow is—Superboy! Behind—_

Her voice wrenches away from their minds and they're left in tenuous silence. Wally runs faster, his throat locking around his words.

Red Arrow what?

"Don't assume," Artemis instructs him tersely, feeling his panic. "Just run. We'll help them when we get there."

 

He's okay. He's okay. He's…

"Fuck," Wally breathes, realizing just how much he cares.

 

In hindsight, it was probably pretty selfish (read: stupid) of him to think that kissing Artemis would somehow make things better. That being said, he's surprised when she doesn't push him away or outright hit him as he scoops her up, the LED numbers scrolling to 00:00:00. They shine red in her eyes, bright, as he dips his head slowly. Giving her time to react, to reject.

"Should've done this a long time ago," he mutters.

She smirks, "Yeah," and doesn't seem surprised when he kisses her. She kisses back even, teeth biting softly against his lower lip.

And he could learn to love her, he thinks. He could learn to love this girl.

But she doesn't taste the same, doesn't kiss the same.

And when she pulls back and stares at him, he realizes that she knows what she means, defined in terms of Roy.

There's no delusion in her face, just a small, sad twist to her lips as she reads him, hand splayed on his chest to preserve their breathing space. She doesn't waste time with questions or rebukes.

Wally quickly sets her down.

When the others aren't watching she hugs him tightly, unexpectedly. "It'll be okay," she whispers, when she should've been punching him, angry at him. When she should've been hurt. "It's going to be okay."

 _No_ , he thinks bleakly. _No, it's not. I'm an idiot._

_I'm sorry._

Out loud, he says, "Happy New Year," and squeezes her back.

Roy is nowhere to be seen.

 

* * *

 

**some say it ends in ice**

* * *

 

 Washington DC  
February 13, 10:12pm  
 **2016**

"What brings you back here?"

Roy's voice is hoarse sandpaper, scraping against his ear; sawing at his nerves. Wally steels himself, shaking it off. He's here for a reason, he has to remember that. He ignores the others watching them from a distance.

"A friend," Wally replies lightly, meeting his eyes.

Red Arrow turns his head away, scoffs. "Cute. What'd Nightwing have to say to drag you out here?"

"Nothing," Wally lies, frowning. "I was talking about you. I can still call you that, can't I?"

"Knock yourself out," Roy shrugs.

Wally swallows back any accusations he wants to throw, any _You left me_ 's and _You have no right_ 's. Now wasn't the time. "Look, just because I'm not in love with you doesn't change that I still care about you, Roy."

There's a challenging gleam in Roy's eye that makes Wally slightly regret his choice of words, heart palpitating as he closes his mouth. But then that look is gone, closed off, like someone pulling the shutters down behind Roy's eyes.

"Why don't you stop wasting your time?" Roy grits out instead, changing tracks sharply. Wally is too familiar with his defenses to be cowed; he knows what to do when Roy starts attacking topics that he thinks will end a conversation.

"Because I don't think you're some washed up junkie hero," Wally shoots back. Roy sets his jaw, saying nothing. "You're Roy Harper. Not Clone Roy, not Roy 2.0, just Roy Harper. And you need to get over yourself."

"Why waste your time on me?" Roy repeats coldly, not fighting back. Just demanding an answer. Wally's smart enough to read in between the lines.

"Because I knew you before I knew him," Wally admits, sotto voce. "And I don't like what this is doing to you. I don't care how much we want him back, losing you isn't helping anything."

Roy doesn't seem to know what to do with this open display of loyalty. He turns away, his bow scraping along the ground.

"Save your breath," Roy mutters after a moment. "I know what I'm doing."

"What, stealing money to get by?"

"Fuck you, West," Roy snarls, and Wally pretends that doesn't sting.

"You're better than this, Roy," Wally pushes, standing his ground. Roy doesn't budge.

"I have to find him," he insists. "Just because you've all given up already—"

"It's _consuming_ you, look at what—"

"I stopped being your problem a long time ago," Roy snaps. "You don't run my life, Wally. Now get out of my way."

"You're not running your own life," Wally shouts at him. "He is."

For one tense moment, Wally almost expects Roy to punch him, like he'd lashed out at Dinah. Instead Roy just glares.

"Roy," Wally fixes him with an exasperated look. "You heard Jim. He's dead."

"You're gonna have to try harder than that," Roy returns shortly. "He's out there somewhere. I'm bringing him back. End of story."

Wally feels that fierce stare boring into him and takes a deep breath, knowing this is what Dick had brought him here for. Why Dinah had wanted him to come. He doesn't like it.

Pride tells him no.

But that hollowness in his chest, and the tossing and turning that keeps him up at night, and the number still in his cell phone even though the line's long been disconnected…

"Come back." Wally whispers the words into the air, so that they have to be pulled away from him by the wind. "Please."

For a long minute, neither of them says a word. Finally Roy opens his mouth, something cold and sad and defeated in his words. "You didn't really think it'd be that easy."

"No." Wally shrugs, folding up his disappointment neat and easy. Practiced. "Still, worth a shot."

"You don't change," Roy sighs.

"You have," Wally shoots back. He grimaces. "I'm not going to beg, Roy. Just… come home."

"… You know I can't do that," Roy answers, his voice softer, less brusque than he'd started out with. An apology. Roy regards him with another strange, hungry look, before his face pinches and he turns away. "I'm leaving."

Wally lets him walk past, his elbow brushing against his jacket. He swallows, closes his eyes.

"Take care," he hears, before the sound of an arrow flying, a zip-line unraveling, and then, nothing.

 

Mt. Justice  
January 1, 2:13 am  
 **2011**

 

His room at Mt. Justice feels too cramped tonight. Too stifling to contain the screaming, flaming wreck of thoughts turning revolutions inside his brain. Wally lies there in silence, aware that Red Arrow has taken up residence two doors away, for the sake of overnight surveillance; aware that there are too many loose ends still, in light of tonight's events.

Finally, he gives it up and picks up a pillow, shutting the door behind him.

Wally finds himself lying face-down on the wrap-around couch of their main room, struggling to fall asleep, when he hears footsteps coming from the doorway. Considering that it's two in the morning, he has a pretty good idea of who it is.

"Where are you going," Wally asks as Roy makes his way to the zeta tubes with a duffel bag over his shoulder. Roy doesn't blink.

"Getting your Roy back for you," he tells him grimly. Realization of Roy's words douses away Wally's exhaustion like cold water. Wally sucks his next breath in through a straw. Shit.

 _Stop him_ , he thinks to himself. Take it back. Tell him you're sorry.

_Say it._

But the words don't come.

"Stay," Wally forces out instead. He smiles unconvincingly, trying to bargain. "Roy, stay. C'mon, you need the League to find him, and we need you here... After everything that's happened, don't you think the Light would'v—"

"I already know where he is," Roy interrupts harshly. "He's at Cadmus. I'm going to get him."

Wally steps in front of the zeta tubes before Roy can make his next move. "Don't," he says, unable to keep the urgency from his voice.

"You don't want me here," Roy reminds him sardonically, shouldering past. "We've talked about this, remember? Wouldn't want you feeling like you were in _danger_."

No. _Say it._

"Roy, I didn't _know_ him." Wally clenches his fists, hoping the words are the right ones to stop him.

They are. Roy stands there, listening.

"I got to know you," Wally pushes ahead, running with his advantage. "And yeah, I want him back, but you don't… He doesn't replace you if he's here."

"Like how I replaced him? This is supposed to be his life, Wally." Roy sounds old all of a sudden, tired. Like a badly made imitation of himself. The irony. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Don't," Wally retorts. "Don't do this."

"Is there any trouble here."

They both turn around to see Red Tornado hovering in the doorway.

"No," Roy says flatly. He gives Wally a long, searching look before he turns around and goes back where he came from. Wally can't help his sigh of relief.

 

He's gone the next week.

He destroyed the trackers Batman had surreptitiously placed on him and his equipment, and left his communicator locked in his apartment. This doesn't really surprise Wally, except that Roy must've either bribed or threatened or just plain hadn't told Green Arrow where he was going, because Ollie hadn't spoken up at all when they tried to relocate Roy.

Ollie is a wreck, in the weeks following Roy's disappearance. When he's not drunk, he's dry-eyed, and when he's drunk, he doesn't laugh.

And everybody knows to let Black Canary alone; leaving her to take her frustrations out on the reinforced punching bags Superboy normally occupies during their training drills (which get slightly more vicious as time goes on).

For the most part, Wally doesn't say anything at all.

 

Mt. Justice  
March 20, 2:13pm  
 **2016**

 

No one had expected Roy to have accomplished it, but when he abruptly sends word to the Watch Tower to come to Mercy Hospital and to bring Green Arrow, they knew.

Speedy comes back to them mentally the same age as he had been when he disappeared. He's missing an arm and an attitude, and regards everyone with the same bewildered look and weak nod as they get him caught up. He's so… small in the hospital bed, hooked up to all those wires.

There's an eight year gap in his memory, and he regards his new clone with clear unease. No one knows what to make of this or how to act around him. Not Green Arrow, who cries openly and crushes Speedy into a hug in front of the entire League. Not Black Canary, who holds tremblingly onto his one arm with a pinched look on her face. Not Kaldur, who welcomes his friend back, conscious that he is starting over from scratch.

When the Speedy gets around to Wally, he surprises Wally by hugging him, leaning up from the bed and throwing his one good arm around his neck.

"Good to see you," Speedy whispers, and Wally locks up against his chest. He doesn't dare look at the other Roy, standing with his jaw clenched in the corner of the room. He doesn't watch him melt away.

"It's good to have you back," Wally tells him instead, returning his embrace.

::

"Uh, hey," Wally calls out awkwardly. Roy stops and half turns, coolly distant. Wally is surprised to note his clean-shaven profile, the purposeful line to his back. He looks changed.

"Hey," he returns, short and forceful. Wally winces. Not that changed, then.

"Glad you're back," Wally offers, before noticing the strange look on Roy's face. No point in beating around the bush. "Look, Roy…"

"Save it," Roy mutters, abruptly turning back around.

" _Hey_ ," and in the next second Wally is in front of him. "Can we just… talk?"

"There's nothing to say."

"I'm not _looking_ for a fight here," Wally exclaims, frustrated.

"Who's fighting?" Roy deadpans. "Look, I need to be somewhere," he goes on in the next breath, distracted.

Wally snaps.

" _Stop_. Stop doing that." Before he knows what he's doing, Wally's already seized Roy around the bicep to keep him from leaving. "I'm getting so sick of watching you walk away from me, _every time_ I so much as—"

"Wally," and the measured, rational tone in his voice surprises Wally into looking up, letting go. "I can't do this right now. Okay?"

"What are you talking about?" Wally demands.

"This." Roy motions between himself and Wally with one hand. "Us. I can't."

"I wasn't even…" Wally begins indignantly, before taking in the pained determination in Roy's face and changing tracks. "What's gotten into you?"

"I've got someone else to think about."

This hits him like a blast of cold air in his ears. Wally's face twitches, as he fights back a dull twinge in his chest. He nods gradually, accepting it.

"Is it Cheshire?" he asks, unsurprised when Roy nods, slowly.

"Not just… her," Roy explains carefully, and Wally really does not expect to hear his next words. "I… we have a daughter. Her name's Lian."

_… Oh._

They stand there for a while in complete silence.

"I… Wow, a father." Wally tries not to sound too stunned; his fingers feel oddly numb. He's not sure what to say. "Congratulations, then. You're… when…?"

"Just found out a few days ago," Roy answers ruefully. "She just kinda sprung it on me… I hadn't seen much of her before that…" Roy stops, shrugs. "But that's not important now."

Wally's not meeting his eyes. Five years… He shouldn't have thought… But Roy was so young, and after what he'd seen of him lately he didn't think…

Wow.

He blinks rapidly. So that was why he'd cleaned up, why he'd pulled himself together when Wally couldn't make him.

"Oh," Wally manages finally. "I… I'll let you get going then. Congrats again."

 

Star City  
June 7, 6:03am  
 **2017**

 

The first thing Wally realizes upon waking is that there is something really heavy and solid lying across his chest. In fact, it's sinking the area of the mattress next to his head. Wally sleepily lifts one arm free, following the metal with closed eyes before coming upon a hand, curled a few inches from his face. He slides his fingertips over the steel digits, feels them slipping over springs and beads of soldering that join it to the arm. He feels a puff of air against the back of his neck.

"Can you feel that?" Wally asks softly, opening his eyes.

"Mm'can feel you squirming," Roy mumbles back, voice scratchy and amused. He yawns and continues. "Wha' time is it?"

"Don' know." Wally's eyes rove around until they land on the clock hanging over the doorway. "Way too early."

"Then go back to sleep."

"Yeah."

When Wally wakes up the second time, it's with full awareness of where he is and what he'd previously been doing. He gently unsettles the arm from his chest and rolls out of bed to find his clothes.

He manages to salvage his boxers from their unlikely place on Roy's lamp when he hears Roy wake up. He crawls back into bed, coming to a stop next to him.

"Morning," Roy greets sleepily.

"Morning. Couldn't find my shirt. Had to steal yours."

"Keep it," Roy yawns. "Looks good on you."

It's hard not to smile at him when he says that, all blissed out and languid. Wally ignores the roiling in his stomach, and instead leans down to kiss him. They lie there in companionable silence for all of thirty seconds before Roy realizes that something's up, because Wally finds his head rolling against a pillow and Roy peering down at him, eyes hazy but alert nonetheless.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Wally replies, fingers rubbing absently over the stubble on Roy's cheek. Roy doesn't move, continuing to stare at him with growing awareness.

"Right," Roy concedes eventually, but he doesn't lie back down.

"Go back to sleep," Wally suggests, rolling back into him. He ends up with his face buried in the covers, still warm from Roy. There are fingers running through his hair, gently snagging on the tangles. Roy's worried. Wally can tell, because Roy appears to be working out the best way to ask him something. Unfortunately, tact is not something that is easily accessible at eight in the morning.

"This isn't… your first time, is it." Roy realizes slowly. It's not a question. "Not with…"

"No."

"Oh."

Roy can do the math. Neither of them says anything. Wally bites his lip. He knows he should be looking at Roy for this conversation, but Wally really does not want to be having this conversation.

 _No, you weren't the replacement. No, I wasn't just using you as wish fulfillment. No, I'm not lying to you, I don't_ want _to lie to you, it's too damn early for this._

_No, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this._

"It's different with you," Wally finally reassures, rolling over so he can see his face. Feeling how inadequate yet vital this clarification is. He smiles. "That's a good thing."

"Thanks," Roy offers woodenly.

"You're not the replacement, Roy." The tension doesn't entirely leave his shoulders, but this time Roy looks just this side of breakable, and Wally sighs. "You've never been the replacement."

Roy is wordless, unreadable. Finally, he glances away. "I won't ask." A truce.

"Deal," Wally answers, leaning up to kiss the side of his neck. He winces slightly as his lower back protests, and this time Roy turns back, grinning apologetically.

"Sore?"

"A bit, yeah." Wally had already taken inventory of last night's activities. Besides the obvious, there are some lovely hickeys that he's rather glad can be covered with a shirt. Others though… He feels the side of his neck gingerly and decides that a purposeful glare at Dick will be enough to dissuade any questions.

"Got carried away," Roy chuckles, not at all sheepish.

"That's okay. I got you pretty good too." Roy slaps a hand to his collarbones and feels around his neck.

"Wow."

"Feel like getting up now?"

"Might as well." Without warning Roy rolls out from under the covers, stark naked and rather thoroughly debauched. A hot blush goes all the way up Wally's neck as Roy crosses the room. He feels a little amazed at how unselfconscious Roy is, and then promptly feels ridiculous, considering all that had transpired between them. Roy plucks a pair of boxers from somewhere in the depths of his closet and tugs them on, completely unconcerned with Wally's attention.

Or not. He glances back over his shoulder and smiles, a little smugly.

"You want the shower first or should I?"

"You shower," Wally decides. "I'll go throw something together. Got any bacon?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Never mind. I'll run out and grab some from the corner 7-11… What's with you?" Wally remarks as Roy turns the exact same color Wally was seconds ago.

"Nothing," Roy coughs hastily. "Just… I know the guy who works there… Um." He looks inquisitively back at Wally, and something clicks.

"I'll borrow one of your sweatshirts." He's very aware of how domestic this all feels, and right before he gets up he hears snatches of a baby's laughter and a woman's low voice echoing through his mind before they're gone.

 _Lian_.

He shakes it off.

"You're sure?" Roy seems to not notice his pause. He seems wary, apprehensive. As if waiting for the other shoe to drop. And Wally realizes, with a flood of guilt, that Roy's been waiting for this; for Wally to take off running as soon as he opens the door.

God. He's been such an ass.

"I hear frying bacon with no shirt on is a bad idea," Wally quips, trying to smile reassuringly. He holds his gaze steady. "I'll do it. Only problem is everyone's gonna know I just came from your apartment."

They both pause to consider Wally's words, and the statement behind those words.

_It's okay. I don't care._

"…The walls here are paper thin anyway," Roy starts slowly, the corners of his lips up twitching up unconsciously. "I don't think it'll come as a surprise."

Wally smirks. "Oops."

There. A laugh. Roy glows with the orange sun slanting behind his blinds, uncomplicatedly beautiful. Something responds, beating like a moth inside Wally's chest.

"Fuck it. My neighbors already hate me."

He's happy. He's really happy.

 _Don't fuck this up again,_ Wally berates himself.

"Great. That settles it." He's found his shoes, too. Wally grabs them along with the discarded jeans at corner of the doorjamb. "Go and shower. I'll take care of it."

"Hey." Wally turns around, holding the door halfway open. Roy closes his mouth and seems to change his mind.

"… Thank you," Roy says simply. They both know what he was about to say. Wally nods, eyes softening.

"You too."

* * *

 

**what i've tasted of desire**

* * *

 

Mercy Hospital  
April 3, 12:03pm  
 **2016**

"You know, you've grown," Roy muses, eyes trained on the top of his head. "I always keep expecting you to have to look up to say hi to me."

"I'm twenty one, Roy. Puberty was a long time ago." Wally smiles, tossing back the tennis ball. Roy catches it in a surprisingly smooth motion with his prosthetic arm. "See? You're getting the hang of it."

"Barely. Thanks for doing this with me," Roy says, throwing it back. They're on the opposite sides of the room. Roy is still in a wheelchair, having not quite regained the muscle tone necessary for walking yet. "Dinah was getting antsy over all the physical therapy."

"Worked you like a drill sergeant, huh?"

"Hardly." Roy shifts uncomfortably against his seat. "I don't remember her ever acting this much like a mom."

Wally bounces the tennis ball up and down on his palm. "She really missed you, you know."

"Yeah. I know." Roy fumbles a little as he catches the ball with his good arm. His aim's still as good as ever. It's just his body that needs catching up. "We're doing a lot of catching up now."

"That's good. Same story with GA?"

"Ollie?" There's a strange pause as Roy thinks on this. "Yeah, we're catching up too."

"Oh." Wally can sense a thin layer of glass covering Roy as he says this, politely distant and vague. "That's good. You must've missed them."

"Missed… isn't the right word for it." Roy glances quickly back at him, seeming to regret his words before throwing the ball. "Forget it."

Wally catches it. "What?"

"Don't worry about it."

Wally frowns. "Roy. Speaking as your friend and not your therapist, repression isn't healthy."

Roy laughs at the admittedly weak joke.

"You can tell me," Wally coaxes, spreading his arms out demonstratively. "Just get it off your chest."

Roy shakes his head.

"C'mon. Spit it out."

Roy considers him for a minute, seemingly deliberating.

"It's… just weird," Roy admits. Wally waits, not pushing for elaboration. To buy time, Roy glances sideways out the ceiling-to-floor windows, down to the pine trees swaying in the parking lot.

"I mean… for me… It was only yesterday that I last saw them, you know?" Roy allows slowly, as he builds the words up. "I told Dinah that Ollie asked her over for dinner. She told me to take a rain check; Ollie's always flaking out of things, and she had something…"

He shakes his head. "Funny the shit you remember, huh? Anyway, when they finally knocked me out, I was still thinking about how I was going to stop the bleeding… Whether I recognized who sent them or what they were… I never even thought about Ollie or Dinah. When I would see them again."

He pauses.

"The next thing I know, I wake up in a hospital and the doctor tells me it's been eight years. The first thing I thought was 'Shit, I woke up in a soap opera.' The next, I thought, 'Fuck, Ollie, what took so long?'" Wally doesn't laugh. "Then I realize it wasn't Ollie who saved me."

"I'm sorry."

"This must be really weird for you guys," Roy remarks, wheeling himself around. "You knew him better than you knew me."

"We just… need to get used to it," Wally assures him carefully. Roy doesn't look reassured. He's still contemplating his body, opening and closing his good hand.

Roy had been fifteen when he was captured and replaced. Physically, he didn't stop aging. But waking up in a twenty-three year old's body…

"The last time I was here, Dick was still elbow height. Kaldur was still batting on the side of the angels." An uncomfortable twinge hits Wally but he can't say anything to correct him. "And you tailed me like a puppy. Now you're bigger than me."

"Physically, you're now the same height as me." Wally smirks playfully. "I'll let that puppy thing slide."

"I was fifteen yesterday, Wally." For the first time, Roy lets his cracks show.

He's scared. God he's so young. Wally doesn't know how handle the tables being flipped like this; for all his life, Roy's always been the older one. Older, brasher, brighter, stronger; with eyes that warmed like candles and a temper like a mountain range on fire. This Roy… he's so vulnerable. So new.

"I know." Wally sits down next to him, cross legged on the floor. His head reaches the armrest of Roy's wheelchair, and Roy has to look down to make eye contact. "We'll figure it out. I know things are… weird right now, but that's okay. You're safe."

"I feel like a time traveler," Roy murmurs, eyes looking right at him yet somehow past him. "There's two of me running around, and I'm stuck. I don't… belong."

Wally stills at his words, before his voice turns unexpectedly sharp. "Don't say that. You have a place. Here, with us."

Roy stares at him, startled. Wally calms himself down, sheepish at his outburst. "Sorry. I, uh… sorry. Just… don't think like that, Roy. We went through a lot to find you. Red Arrow went through a lot. And Ollie and Dinah missed you like crazy."

"How could they miss me when they didn't even know I was gone?" Roy points out, with some of that familiar stubbornness he was known for. Wally takes in that earnest face, so familiar but so _different_ , so unsure of itself.

"They missed you," Wally asserts clearly. "Trust me."

Roy considers him carefully before gradually sliding his eyes away.

"Okay," Roy acknowledges. "Sure." He fiddles with the tennis ball, bouncing it off the tiles with one hand.

 

Central City  
October 12, 8:34pm  
 **2010**

 

"—didn't want me in the first place, maybe you should've said something sooner!"

"WALLY!"

"Wally, _get back in this house!_ I'm not done talking to you yet, do you hear me? _Close that door,_ I mean it!"

SLAM. Wally trembles faintly as he takes rapid breaths to calm himself down. He hears the knob turning but by that time the slipstream from his running had already carried it away.

Far, far away.

 

It's late. Fuck, it's really late. He should've thought this through, what if he was out, what if…

The door opens. "Wally?" Roy stands there backlit by the light coming from his doorway. He looks like he was just getting prepared to go out for a patrol of the city.

"It's a school night, kid. What are you doing here?"

Wally forces a laugh. "Just in the neighborhood. Were you in the middle of something?"

Roy considers him carefully. Wally jerks back in surprise as Roy suddenly reaches a hand out to thumb away the remaining tear tracks still on his face. He'd thought the wind had taken care of that.

"It can wait," Roy decides, opening the door wider. "Get in here, you're not wearing a jacket."

No, he's not. He'd been in too much of a rush to remember, but up until now the speed and energy he exerted running had kept him warm. He only realizes that he's shivering now from cold, not anger or exhaustion.

Wally sits on Roy's dilapidated old couch with the squishy blue cushions, rubbing his arms as Roy goes into his room to set down his bow and quiver. He feels something heavy and warm settle over his shoulders and tugs it around himself, grateful. He recognizes the smell of leather and cologne as being one of Roy's jackets.

"Was gonna bring out the comforter, but then I remembered you weren't twelve." Roy settles himself next to him, closer than he normally would. "You could've texted first," he murmurs, putting an arm around his shoulders and rubbing to warm him through friction. "What happened?"

"Left my phone at home." Wally hangs his head, allowing Roy to warm him up. "Just… a stupid fight with my parents, I guess."

"Uh huh." Roy glances at him speculatively, but doesn't try to get anything further from Wally than that. "Were your aunt and uncle out?"

"I… I didn't want to get them involved." Most of the argument had been about how much time he was spending with Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris actually. How much time with the Team. How much time away from home.

"I see." A soothing hand runs through his hair. "Shit, even your hair's cold. You ran all the way here?"

"It's not that far." He'd needed to burn some steam anyway.

 _Is that so?_ A thin wire of a voice speaks up at the back of his head. _Listen to yourself. You needed somebody, so you ran a few cities to get there? Talk about desperate._

Wally groans, realizing how stupid it looked to show up on someone's doorstep at this hour just to cry on their couch. Especially as Roy wraps an arm around him and continues rubbing a soothing hand up and down his spine. God. He feels like a child. They'd only been dating a month.

"Going somewhere?" Wally realizes that he'd pushed Roy's jacket off while thinking. "You're crazy if you think I'm letting you run around after this."

"It's… it's not… I'm sorry," Wally rasps out, putting his head in his hands. His fingers clutch at his hair, before clasping behind his ears. "God I feel like an idiot. You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"Oh, _for the love of_ …" He feels Roy getting off the couch to crouch down in front of him. He looks up miserably, humiliated. "You do remember that we were friends before we started doing this, right?" Roy asks, placing his hands over Wally's and gently lowering them from their grip. He feels Roy's calluses against his wrists and is somehow comforted by that.

"Yeah, but—"

"Would you be apologizing to Dick if you barged into his house at…" Roy checks something behind Wally's head. "Eleven o'clock at night?"

"No, because I'd be making my excuses to—" _Don't say Batman._ "… His butler," Wally finishes off feebly. "Alfred gets pretty British when I pull shit like that."

Weak joke, but Roy smiles anyway. "Then don't apologize to me. Tell me what happened."

Wally takes a deep breath but goes on anyway. Roy listens the same way Dick would have, only interrupting once or twice with a wince of sympathy. _("You told them you wished you were adopted?" "Yeah, I know.")_ When Wally finishes, he leans his head on Roy's shoulder. The jacket is more or less bunched on the couch now, but Wally's more than warm enough. It's because of Roy; ignoring his blazing temper, he runs at a hotter temperature than a lot of people Wally knows. Fiery, argumentative Roy. It's a strange but welcome feeling, having Roy be so…

There's a kiss on the crown of his head.

…gentle. He feels very taken care of.

"They're probably worried about you," Roy observes, the sound rumbling in Wally's ear. Wally shrugs.

"It's why I left my phone at home."

"You should give them a call." A hard knot builds up in Wally's throat. "Just to let them know you're not dead in a ditch somewhere. You know?"

"I guess." Wally sighs. "When'd you become the mature one?"

"Since the billionaire playboy adopted me." Ouch. There's a ring of truth to that. "We've all got our issues, kid. Some of us in spades."

"Oh." Wally feels chastened. "How'd you two work things out?"

"Hm, talked. Broke a lot of things. Chili." That surprises a laugh out of Wally. "We'd also go days without seeing each other, except for patrols where he'd baby me and I'd act like an ass and he'd throw a tantrum right back." Roy shrugs. "Eventually he'd own up to it, and I'd get off my high horse and calm down."

"Sounds legit."

"Yeah. You don't hate them," Roy states knowingly, with a sarcastic twitch of his lips. "No matter how much you both fuck up. Especially you, you're too much of a marshmallow to hate anyone." _Hey!_ "Besides, it sounds like they're trying, Wally."

"I know they do." God knows they try, but between all the pressures of being a hero and a teenager, Wally feels stretched thin. His relationship with his parents is so much stiffer and less fun than his relationship with Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris. They don't understand him, too quick to judge and too slow to listen.

But then Wally remembers his mother making him waffles in bed on his birthday, and his father patiently building him the tree house he (impractically) wanted when he was nine.

"I'll call them in a bit," Wally mutters, curling up against Roy's chest. "Just… not right now, okay? Later."

"Fair enough." Roy's words taper off as he finds himself the recipient of an abrupt, drawn out kiss, building as Wally closes his eyes and cups his face with one hand.

"Thanks," Wally whispers, pulling away. "For listening." For snapping me out of it.

"Anytime. You should probably stay the night," Roy declares, checking the clock again with a stretch of his neck. "It's too late for you to be out."

"You're like my dad, I swear."

Roy shrugs. "Do you want the couch or my bed?"

Wally watches him closely, before adding slowly, "Would you mind if we shared the bed?"

"No." Roy smiles, letting Wally place his boundaries. "I don't mind. Just sleeping?" Roy teases.

Christ, does his face _burn_ from all the blood rushing to it. "Just sleeping," Wally mumbles quickly.

Roy laughs at his embarrassment, breath warming the shell of his ear.

"Hey, no rush, Kid Flash. Toothbrush is in the medicine cabinet."

 

Star City  
August 4, 2:13pm  
 **2016**

"You sure this is what you want to do?" Green Arrow repeats for perhaps the hundredth time as they unpack the cardboard moving boxes. "You know you don't have to take things so fast, there's plenty of room at home—"

"Ollie, hand me the box cutter will you?" Dinah cuts him off, dropping a box labeled _clothes and junk_ in front of him. She glances over her shoulder at Dick and Wally, who are currently helping Roy set up his fridge.

"Yeah, I'm sure Ollie," Roy reaffirms almost mechanically. "I've got a lot of catching up to do. Might as well start acting my age."

"But that makes no sense—"

"Quit being such a mother hen, Ollie," Dinah commands him imperiously before turning sharp eyes onto Roy. "Though he is right, you know. No one's going to think any less of you for staying at home, Roy."

"I'm twenty-three, Dinah."

"No, you're fifteen going on sixteen. Really," she sighs, tearing open the box with a certain lack of finesse. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

Roy gets up from his spot on the floor, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his t-shirt. There's a familiar stubborn set to his jaw. "I don't want to start acting twenty-three when I'm thirty-five, Dinah."

"Why should you? You can drink now," Wally reminds him, far too gleefully for Dinah and Ollie's likes. "That's more than Dickie boy over here."

"Sure, tell the fifteen year old he can drink," Dick mutters. "That's gonna end well."

Dinah and Ollie give him a sharp glance and Roy throws up his arms in frustration.

"I'm not going to _binge drink in my apartment_. Jesus Christ."

"If you'd just give it some time—"

"We'll monitor his habits, don't worry—"

"Not the time, Wally."

"Well, it's not _that_ far a drive from Palo Alto, I could check in every so often…"

"Actually I would feel better if you did, Wally—"

"Oh my god, _all of you,_ shut up!"

"Careful, bro, that's Black Canary you're talking back to—"

"Are you _crying?"_

Everyone stops dead as Ollie hastily swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Course not," he says gruffly. "You're… You're right. You'll do fine, you've been doing fine for years…"

"Ollie," Dinah and Roy both start but he cuts them off by muttering 'bathroom' before making his exit. They all look at each other uncomfortably. Wally and Dick hurriedly turn back to hooking up the fridge unit, sensing a family talk underfoot.

"It's just hard on him to not be there for you," Wally hears Dinah say in an undertone to Roy as he tinkers away. "After you came back, he promised himself that he'd take better care of you."

"He can't hold onto my hand forever," Roy grumbles, but there's a guilty edge to his voice. "There's nothing to make up for. And it's suffocating. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. You always could. We just thought we'd have more time with you before you struck off on your own again—" Dinah cuts herself off, but Roy had already caught onto the rest of her sentence.

"He let him go off on his own," Roy presses, and Dinah looks at him with something close to pain in her face. Roy apparently notices because his next sentence is much gentler. "I'll visit for Christmas and the major holidays. Maybe we can grab lunch every week or so. I'll be fine, Dinah."

"Goddammit I know you will," and Dinah's choked voice makes Wally shift awkwardly next to Dick. She laughs, rather watery as she hugs Roy tightly to her. "It's not fair, is it? You're not even going to college yet, and we have to deal with this shit already."

"You're such a mom."

"Say that again and I'll break your other arm for you."

"Yes ma'am. Oh god, when'd you get back?" Roy says as Ollie's arms abruptly circle around them both. "I'll be fine, you deadbeat."

"Promise you'll make it back for Chili Night. It's a tradition, Roy."

For a moment Wally worries that Roy will say something disparaging back, but instead his voice is very solemn as he promises, "I will."

 

Palo Alto  
February 13, 11:56pm  
 **2016**

 

"How'd it go?"

"Terrible," Wally sighs, dropping down onto the couch. He doesn't bother taking off his coat or his shoes as he does so. "He wouldn't listen."

"No kidding." Artemis sighs, dropping next to him with an unopened beer. He notices that her hair is gathered messily at the top of her head and she's stolen one of his warmer hoodies for studying. It's actually nice that she'd waited up on him. "Couldn't charm him back with your feminine wiles?"

Well. Nice while it lasted. "That's not really funny, Artie."

"Mm, I'm not really here for your personal amusement, Baywatch," she notes flippantly, taking a long draught. "Last I remember, I'm here to pay for half the rent."

"Some roommate you turn out to be," he groans, flopping backwards, one arm over his eyes. He feels something cold touch his temple, and raises his arm to see Artemis offering him a beer. Budweiser, not Budlite. When'd they spring for the good stuff? He sighs.

"Aren't girls supposed to commiserate about this crap?" he asks, once it was open and half empty. She seems to deliberate on this.

"Commiserate, yes. Listen to you bitch? Not part of my job description."

"I hate you."

"Man up. I'm here to get you hammered. Unless you really want me to commiserate; then we're going to need at least three more tubs of ice cream and Pretty in Pink."

Wally glares at her over the lip of his bottle. She shrugs. "That's how it's done."

"Whatever. Ice cream isn't a horrible idea."

"You're such a teenage girl," she scoffs.

"Bitch."

"The original." She finishes off her bottle and glances at him speculatively for a minute, eyes dark and strikingly sober. Wally ignores her, moodily playing with his already empty bottle. He blows lightly over the top of it. A long, melancholy note spins into the air like a curl of smoke; like a fleeing spirit.

"You're still that hung up on him."

"No. I'm not."

"God, Wally," she sighs, dropping her head on his shoulder. He rests his cheek on her hair. "Don't cry."

"Who's crying?"

She reaches down to the floor next to her and produces two more Budweisers, uncapping them both. Wordlessly she hands one over.

"What'd he say?" she asks, all soothing now that firing him up apparently hadn't worked. Wally takes a long gulp before he answers.

"Nothing. He didn't say much of anything, really." The condensation runs over his fingers. "I think Dinah was banking on me being some sort of walking miracle cure for him."

"Uh huh." She raises an eyebrow skeptically. "What'd _you_ say?"

"I asked him to come back. He didn't even give it a second thought."

Artemis gives a kind of tired sigh, as if to say _Of course not_. "How's he looking?" Wally appreciates her concern, mainly because he knows she isn't really close enough to Roy to bother asking.

"Terrible," Wally repeats quietly to the ceiling. "It's like he just gave up. I'm talking heroin-thin, five o'clock shadow, hair grown out." Wally winces. "He couldn't take Dinah in hand-to-hand or me in a straight argument. I'm used to him fighting back, fighting strong. Now he's just… lashing out."

"Dick shouldn't have asked you to come." True. But Wally shakes his head.

"I couldn't just abandon Roy like that."

Artemis makes some non-committal sympathetic sound, rubbing his shoulder. It's soothing, so he doesn't expect the next thing she says. "You really can't let go of him, can you?"

Huh. And he'd been prepared for her to say a lot of things, actually. He glares at the ceiling fan, cursing silently. Trust Artemis to be blunt. "What makes you say that?"

"That look on your face."

"What look?" Wally asks, glancing down at her curiously. Artemis gives him a long, odd stare before she shrugs.

"Forget I said anything." He absently runs a hand through her ponytail, playing with the thick golden strands. "It's just hard to believe you two only dated for a few months back when you were stupid teenagers."

"You make us sound so old," Wally returns with a dry smile. _We were friends before that._

"You are old. It's been a long time since the appearance of Super Slick Hetero Lady-Killer West," she snickers.

"Thanks for the reminder."

"No, really, what was that you said to Black Canary?"

"I'm not listening to this—"

 _"Do you know karate? 'Cuz your body's kicking_ —ACK! Get off!" Wally had tackled her over the couch, stuffing a throw pillow on top of her head. She laughs madly, and even though she knows twelve different ways to cripple him with her thighs alone, she opts for a more underhanded technique.

"OH GOD," Wally cackles as her fingers dance over his ribs. _"NO TICKLING!_ NO, augh-hahaha, _C-cut your nails!"_

"Not until you—" burst of hysterical laughter "G-get your fat _ass hahahaha off me!"_

They both roll onto the floor, narrowly missing hitting their heads on the coffee table. They're breathing heavily. "We're like a fucking sitcom."

"Yeah." His hand finds hers. "Hey. Thanks."

She shrugs. "Robin's not here. I have to pick up the slack somehow."

"Why? You're pretty adequate on your own."

She smiles warmly, one dimple showing in surprise. "Mush-ball… I'm still not letting you copy my Viet essay for tomorrow."

Wally chuckles. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

 

* * *

 

  
**those who favor fire**

* * *

 

 

New Orleans  
December 5, 11:45am  
 **2010**

 

"Red Arrow, can I speak with you for a moment?"

"What is it, Aqualad?" Roy turns his head to him, every sign of frustration clear on his face. Wally, on the other side of the bioship, notices Artemis bristling and decides for the moment that her need is greater than Roy's. He goes to sit next to her, ignoring her rather guarded appearance. He still keeps an ear out for their conversation.

"In private," Aqualad decides, and if it wasn't obvious he was talking about Artemis then, it is now. He hears Roy scoff.

"Lead the way." They leave the control room.

"You okay?" Wally asks quietly.

"Just fine," Artemis rasps, fingers clenching her upper arms.

"Hey. I think you did great," he offers in complete sincerity. He smiles genuinely, and watches the corners of her lips twitch back in return. "Don't let Roy get you down. He's just really invested in the mission."

"He's got a nice way of showing it."

The bioship doors slide back open and Roy reenters.

"Later," she mutters darkly. Without a word, Artemis gets up and follows Aqualad out of the cockpit, shoulders rising defiantly at Roy's sharp gaze.

"I wish you'd let up on her," Wally sighs the minute the ship doors slide closed. "Aqualad's right, you know."

"Until the mole is found," Roy mutters, taking a seat at the controls, "I'm not going to waste my time worrying about offending rookies who can't learn to take an order."

"Roy," Wally sets the bioship on autopilot, walking up to stand by him. Roy doesn't turn to look at him. "Hey."

Sighing, Roy turns around. Wally takes the seat next to his, leaning forward with his arms braced against his knees.

"Look, I'm really glad you're finally on the team," Wally states, eyes serious. "But I'm with Aqualad on this."

"Why are you both so _hell bent_ on defending somebody with a past shadier than half the criminals at Bell Reve?" Roy questions, arms crossed. He sounds more curious than irritated as he says this, and Wally decides to take him at face value. He considers it carefully.

The first thing that comes to mind are all the times an arrow had knocked out an enemy that was on his tail; but that wasn't right. Instead he recalls the delight on Megan's face when Artemis had introduced her to Chocos, or the disbelief on Dick's when she'd wiped the floor with him during a sparring session. He recalls her trying to teach Kaldur how to fist-bump, and that one afternoon she spent patiently explaining _Family Guy_ references to Conner.

"Because Green Arrow trusts her, doesn't he?" Wally reasons finally, shrugging as he appeals to Roy's higher sense of logic. "And I've never tried, but I don't think anyone can slip anything past Batman."

Roy raises an eyebrow. "First time for everything."

"Ease up." Wally is starting to get annoyed again. "She did alright tonight. Cheshire got away, but that was my fault too. Sportsmaster got the slip on us, and you didn't blame Kaldur. Come to think of it, what is the deal with you and Cheshire," Wally rounds back, squinting at him suspiciously.

"Oh, so I wasn't crazy." Roy grins unexpectedly, while Wally scowls. "You were jealous."

"That girl best step off my man," Wally mocks, while Roy coughs out a reluctant laugh. "You're avoiding the question."

Roy shrugs. "She's got… a thing for me," he says at last, leaning forwards to imitate Wally.

"Great." Wally leans his chin atop his knuckles. "Do you normally just sit still and let her sexually harass you?"

"You know, usually she has both her sai pressed against my jugular," Roy states wryly.

"Excuses."

Without a word, Roy leans forward and kisses him. Wally feels his lips being coaxed open and he complies, tilting his head as Roy's hand comes to cradle the back of his neck. There's a cut on Roy's lip from the explosion during the boat chase. Wally smoothes his tongue over it; he tastes like metal and water, cold and clean.

"I'm really glad you're back," Wally whispers eventually, before pulling away. "Just. Ease up."

Roy makes a noise that isn't exactly an agreement, but it's not a complete dismissal either.

"We'll see."

 

Mt. Justice  
December 20, 10:18pm  
 **2011**

 

"Asshole," he hears Megan mutter as she stalks into the mountain, and Wally blinks in genuine shock. He's never heard her sound anything less than a lady, though prolonged exposure to Artemis and MTV clearly haven't been healthy for her.

"Hope that wasn't directed towards me, Megalicious." He winks to let her know he was kidding; their routine was more of an inside joke now than it was actual flirting. She looks up, surprised to see him there, and smiles apologetically.

"I'm so sorry Wally! Of course I didn't mean you."

"Hey, it's all good. Just for interest's sake, who were you talking about?"

She looks vaguely uncomfortable for some reason, when they're interrupted by Conner walking in, muttering "Asshole."

Wally raises an eyebrow. "Hey Supes."

"Wally. Hey." Conner looks visibly strained but Wally's appearance somehow works to chasten him. What the hell was going on?

"Hey, did I accidentally offend a whole bunch of people without being aware of it?"

"No, it's not you Wally," Megan hurries to reassure him. She winces. "We were, uhm. We just got back from a mission with… Red Arrow," she finishes in a small voice.

Roy? Wally stares at her. "What's that have to do with me?" he asks carefully.

"Nothing!" Wally watches her hands blur in a way that would impress any speedster. "You just… uh… We thought… Aren't you two…"

"Dating? What?" Conner asks defensively when Megan looks up at him in despair. "Wasn't that what you were trying to say?"

Wally almost laughs. "Yeah, I guess we are," he replies, silencing their bickering. This wasn't how he'd expected it to come out, but… he's a bit relieved for the anticlimax, worried as he's been about how the team was going to take it. "Why, what'd he do?" The momentary smugness at having received confirmation of their suspicions rapidly turns back to sullen stares.

"No offense?" Conner asks, glancing skeptically at him. "But your boyfriend's…"

"Kind of a douche," Robin finishes, walking out from behind them. "What are we all standing here for, guys?"

"Welcome back party," Wally mutters, sighing indignantly. "You told them?"

"Dude, it was pretty obvious. Besides, Meg figured it out on her own."

"Great. Well, guess that saves me one headache." _Out of the frying pan…_ Wally rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to keep a whine out of his voice. "What'd Roy do?"

Dick shrugs flippantly but his voice is cold. "Oh, nothing. Just reenacted the Salem Witch Trials with a side of McCarthyism thrown in."

_… and into the fire._

"Tell me you're kidding."

"No-pe." Dick pops his mouth on the 'p' and still manages to come off deadpan. "He did everything short of sticking an electronic collar on our necks and calling it a day."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Wally asks, incredulous. Dick trained next to Roy, for God's sake.

"Nawh, KF, what's a couple years of friendship when there's a mole on the loose?" His sarcasm could've cut. "Better yet, we have another mission coming up with him," Dick announces brightly.

"Who's we?" Wally asks.

"Me, Artemis, Superboy, and Miss Martian," Dick ticks off. Wally waits for him to continue. When he's not readily forthcoming, Wally tacks on a look. Dick avoids his glance carefully, uncharacteristically scuffing his boots. And that's when Wally starts to suspect…

"What's the mission?"

"Infiltrating Haley's Circus," Conner announces, confirming what Wally already knew. Dick just looks tense; quite a chink in the armor for a Robin.

"Maybe I should come along," Wally suggests casually. "Every circus needs a juggler, right?"

"Negative. We can't risk a bigger troupe without drawing suspicion to ourselves," Dick excuses, and Wally just nods. "Besides. You should enjoy Christmas with your family."

"Can't we bring him along to punch some sense into Red?" Conner grumbles.

Wally shrugs uncomfortably. "I'll talk with him," he assures Conner and doesn't miss the wan smile that Megan gives him in return.

"I think congratulations are in order," she manages kindly, and really, it's endearing how much she tries.

"Except your boyfriend's an asshole and we hate him," Robin finishes and they all choke before bursting into laughter.

 

Chicago  
June 24, 7:32pm  
 **2017**

 

The eighteen-wheeler in front of them explodes, three of its back wheels taken out by nitroglycerine tipped arrows. Sparks fly as it scrapes across the asphalt, and several cars swerve violently out of its way before it comes to a smoking, shuddering stop.

Wally comes to an abrupt stop next to the wreckage and zips over to the driver's side, dodging around a passing Corolla. The door is already kicked open. As soon as he gets there, a heavy-set Hispanic man falls out, rolls, and aims a submachine gun at his head. Wally kicks it out of his hand and has him in the air by his collar in the same second. The man kicks and spits at him in a language that doesn't sound a whole lot like Spanish.

"Jesus, how do you get one of these guys out," Wally mutters, grimacing as two strong hands squeeze at his wrist bones in an attempt to break his hold.

"I say hit it," says the voice from behind him. The sound of a motorcycle's kick-stand drops, engine still running.

"It's not a _piñata_ , Arsenal," Wally grunts, avoiding the legs swinging at his stomach.

"No," Roy replies, nocking an arrow and aiming it straight at the man's head. "But it's not like that's candy sitting inside of it."

The man gives him a deadly look and slows his attempts to wrestle himself out of Wally's hold.

"It might have friends in the cargo hold," Wally mutters to Roy. "Check it out."

"Not your sidekick, Kid Flash."

"Stop being a teenager and check the back."

"Not 'til that one's out for the count."

"Fine." Two seconds later the man is thrown into the asphalt. Unable to believe the carelessness of his attacker, the man picks himself up and—

Is instantly encased in high-polyurethane foam. It hardens rapidly, rising up past his neck.

"Try getting out of that," Roy says, satisfied.

Wally doesn't waste time checking to see if the Krolotean is contained; he's already ripping the cargo hold open, ignoring the flames licking the back.

"You might want to put those out," he calls behind him to Arsenal. "Before it hits the engine!" Two more arrows fly past him to engulf the flames. "Thanks." The metal is already burning hot under his gauntlets but with some effort, he yanks the door upwards and is greeted by several metal crates marked Not for Redistribution.

Wally pulls himself in and starts quickly examining the hold. Roy is at his back, having just hauled himself in.

"What are we looking for exactly?"

"I'll know when I see it." Wally's hands fly over the hold with no discernable order or method. Roy glances around in the dark space, jittery with the feeling of laser sights playing over his chest.

"Gotcha," he hears Wally whisper.

"What?" Wally doesn't reply, instead jamming his hand into a crevice between two crates and pulling outwards. The sound of hinges grating open is his answer.

"False compartment." Inside are a series of control panels, all unmanned. "Surprised they didn't use a mini-van. Maybe that would've been too cliché."

Roy warier than Wally is. "Where are the rest of them?"

"Dunno. But I think this equipment… runs itself," Wally guesses, running a hand over the screens. None of them respond to his touch, in favor of continuing to scroll their ceaseless alien cryptography. Wally lifts his goggles, squinting at the glowing yellow symbols. A group of symbols in particular kept repeating themselves, only in different order… It looked like…

It's at that same second that he realizes that he and Roy are standing in a nest of wires.

"Shit." Without warning, he picks up Roy and vaults out of the hold. He ignores the startled exclamation in favor of putting as much distance between them and the truck as possible. He needs to redirect traffic, but the roads are only clear for about two blocks—

"This is KidFlash to the League," he spits into his earpiece. "I need Rocket, repeat, I need Rocket!"

There's a torturously long second of static before he hears the affirmative. "This is Rocket to Kidflash, what's going on over there?"

"Truck rigged with explosives; I can't clear traffic fast enough, it's going to blow up everything for at least a mile!" He ignores Roy's noise of alarm. "I need containment!"

"Shit. I have your coordinates but you're too far—I can't get—"

"Then where's Zatanna? Or Superboy or Wondergirl—I need someone to get rid of that thing!"

"TURN BACK!" Wally almost drops Roy; he was shouting directly into his ear.

"WHAT ARE YOU, CRAZY?" Wally screams. Roy is struggling against his arms, and it's getting increasingly difficult to carry him and run at the same time. "WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU DOING?"

"Just turn back!" Roy roars. "Trust me, there's no time!"

"YOU'RE GOING TO GET US KILLED—"

_"DO IT!"_

Swearing convulsively into the air, Wally makes a circuit back. He has no _idea_ how long it's going to take before that bomb goes off, but it could be _seconds_ away and they're running _towards_ it. "You better have a fucking _amazing_ plan in mind, Arsenal!"

"Working on it," Roy growls, drawing three arrows from his quiver. "Are you capable of making vortexes?"

Wally cottons onto the rest pretty quickly. "Yeah, but not strong enough ones to raise a truck!"

"Try! We just need to keep it from blowing!"

"Just?"

This was way outside the scope of their abilities. Kid Flash could run and Arsenal could shoot, but to destroy or contain a bomb they needed someone like Rocket, Mgann or Zatanna. Superboy or Wondergirl even. What the hell could they do with arrows and speed?

Roy curses. "No choice," he murmurs.

"What's going on over there?" Rocket snaps across the line. Wally grits his teeth; he can hear the wind blowing across the intercom as she rushes to get to them. "What'd Arsenal just tell you?"

"Just hurry," Wally yells. They're there. Roy is already scrambling from Wally's grip. "I don't even know. Just make it fast, we'll try to buy you some time."

He hears her cuss softly but is already too busy staring at Roy as he gets into the driver's seat.

 _"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"_ Wally shrieks.

"Improvising," Roy says hurriedly.

"It's been set on fire! The tires are probably all melted—"

"I put them out, they still can move. Don't argue with me, I just need you to run."

Wally's going to have a heart attack, he really is. "I'm not leaving you behind!"

"In front of me!" Roy's already got the engine restarted and is starting to pull out. "Now which way to the water?"

Wally puts two and two together and blurts to Rocket, "MEET US AT LAKE MICHIGAN!"

 _"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOUR ASSES DOING AT LAKE MICHIGAN?"_ is the tinny reply.

"JUST DO IT!" It's a straight shot for ten blocks to the lake; but how much time do they…

"Follow me!" he yells and speeds off down the street.

He doesn't have much in the way of weapons technology on him, but he has the presence of mind to grab the fallen Krolotean's machine gun. He runs ahead of Roy, shooting the traffic lights as he goes. He hears brakes squealing but he doesn't waste any time looking back. He needs to get the next five cleared, and they're still at few minutes from the dock at most—

A child. Crossing the street. He swears, shooting the traffic light above before scooping the kid out of harm's way. An SUV barely manages to avoid hitting him, but he's already deposited the kid on the sidewalk, with rushed shouts of _"Stay put!"_

He ignores shouts from civilians, because he's already off like a bullet, shooting less with aim and more with desperation. It's not a neat job, but it gets it done. He reaches the last block and examines his handiwork. Traffic is stopped at all the intersections leading to the pier. A few confused drivers swoop past over the broken glass, but others don't take the chance, afraid of blowing their tires.

Perfect.

He can hear Roy starting to close in, and that hadn't taken long; he must be going 110 mph at least. No time to dwell. Aware that he has possibly minutes, possibly _seconds_ left to him, he makes quick work of clearing all crates and obstacles from the dock. He yells at a startled fisherman to release his speed boat, _now, it was an emergency._ The man follows orders, recognizing him by his costume, and not a minute too soon. There's an enormous roar as Roy guns the engine, the trailer rocking dangerously from side to side as he barrels the truck over the dock and into the water. He drops out at the last possible second, bouncing painfully off the concrete, his roll stopped by a load of fishing nets and crates.

The truck crashes into the water, creating a massive wave before being swallowed up. And Wally starts to panic, because it was still _too close to the dock,_ and the explosion could still reach the city limits—when he sees a familiar figure weaving in the air above him. A purple glow lights up Rocket's face as she straightens her arms in front of her, lowered towards the water. Below the waves, they can see a ghostly, lavender light, like a trapped lantern. They wait. And wait. It's probably two minutes later before it _explodes_ in an almost blinding glare of whiteness. The sound is contained, as are the shock waves, but Wally can see Rocket panting as she tries to absorb the sheer force. The explosion lights up all the water in the bay, and for a few seconds Wally can see schools of startled fish, and wrecked planks of underwater wood and sunken pipelines—

Then Rocket raises her hands and it rises out of the water. The remains of the truck are melted and unrecognizable. Rocket's arms shake.

"You both are crazy," she says in the end, which all things considered, is her version of a job well done.

"Blame Arsenal," Wally grins, before collapsing with relief onto his back. There's a tingling all over his skin, as his body heals all the cuts from the broken street lights that managed to nick his suit. He feels weightless with success, his head lighter than air.

"Not bad for a rookie, huh?" Arsenal shouts sarcastically, but he sounds elated. Wally closes his eyes, smiling. The stars above him are pinpricks of white light, before they too are gone.

 

St. John's Hospital, ICU  
June 25, 12:03 am  
 **2017**

 

Wally wakes up in a hospital bed with no idea how he got there. Wasn't he just celebrating a job well done a few seconds before?

Wally gingerly seats himself up, before noticing a breathing mask stuck onto his face. He frowns, feeling at the thick plastic connecting it to the ridged tubing. He tries to take it off, but the strap is stuck to his hair and kind of hurts pulling off.

What the hell?

"—could've done a _fucking better job,_ don't you think?" Well, now he has his answer of what woke him up. That was an awfully familiar voice though.

"He's got _seniority_ over me, Red Arrow, he can handle himself just fine!" Wally jolts, shocked at the argument taking place in the room outside of him. What was Red Arrow doing here? No, fuck that, how did he end up in this hospital?

 _"Carbon monoxide poisoning_ is not considered _fine_!"

"They had him on detox for the last three hours, he's going to be—"

_"Do you know what happens to most people who breathe in too much carbon monoxide? THEY DON'T FUCKING WAKE UP."_

Wally stares dumbly at the wall for a minute, before slowly remembering the flames and the fumes from the truck and how fast he'd been running.

"You're lucky his metabolism automatically purges toxins from his blood or else he would be _dead_ by now, do you understand that? Especially with how fast his heart was pumping the stuff through his body! It practically replaced all the oxygen in his heart and brain!"

That was a scary thought. Wally frowns, before renewing his attempts at freeing himself from the breathing mask. A rapid beeping starts up the moment he takes it off, and the door bursts open to his room. Red Arrow and Arsenal stand in the doorway, both looking terrified. Wally can't help staring. This is too bizarre to be actually happening.

"How are _you_ fine?" Wally croaks to Arsenal, before wincing at how bad his voice sounds. Shit, his throat is hoarse. It sounds strange even to himself.

Arsenal's eyes are wide and his lips are white. "The carbon monoxide wasn't circulating as fast through my system. They got it before it absorbed into my bloodstream."

And shit, that's right, Wally had wondered why Roy hadn't gotten up even after he'd fallen into all those crates. He winces, and lies back down. He still feels lightheaded. It's hard to breathe.

Instantly both of them are by his bedside, and really, this was too much.

"What are you doing here, Red Arrow?" he asks, and watches as Red Arrow's expression calcifies.

"Just checking in," he replies, brittle. Wally nods, before closing his eyes again.

"You shouldn't be yelling at Arsenal," he manages quietly. "It's thanks to him that the bomb didn't kill anyone."

"Wally," and this time Red Arrow's voice is tightly controlled. "People die in _thirty minutes_ with the amount you had in your blood. If Rocket hadn't gotten you here and hooked on oxygen, you could've fallen into a coma. There wasn't enough oxygen in your brain, do you get that? Your _heart_ could've failed."

"I took Biology 101, I know that." He's not up for this much discussion right now. "He did a good job," Wally wheezes, not much air left in his system. He needs that mask again, dammit. Damn it all. "Quit giving him a hard time. I'm fine. Why… why aren't you in a bed?" he asks Arsenal this time, confused. If he'd had carbon monoxide poisoning, he should be as weak as Wally is. Especially given how he doesn't heal as fast.

"I was." Arsenal looks smaller under the force of Red Arrow's anger this time, smaller despite the fact that they were identical in height. "I got out hours ago."

"Well shit," Wally groans, and hears both of them raise their arms in a panic. Again. "Quit that, I'm fine. Just… need some… rest that's all. Catch my… breath."

"He needs rest," Red Arrow says promptly. "Get out, I can take over from here."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Arsenal snaps furiously. It's making Wally's head hurt.

"You almost got him _killed_ today," Red Arrow states coldly. " _He_ might not be giving you a hard time, but that doesn't mean I have to roll over and play dead."

"Are you trying to say that _I don't care_?"

"Roy," Wally says, and both of them snap their heads around to him. He sighs, remembering, before addressing Arsenal. "It's fine. I want to… talk to Red Arrow, anyway. Get… get some rest."

Arsenal looks like he wants to argue, but Wally must look like complete shit because he only stares and says nothing for a full minute. After tensing his shoulders, he backs off slowly, before turning around to exit the room. He only pauses once to glare at Red Arrow before he closes the door.

"Roy," Wally murmurs. "What are you doing here?"

Roy's jaw works, but he answers readily. "I came as soon as I heard the news from Rocket."

"You're… still… in contact… with the League?"

"Occasionally. Mostly when something important happens." His eyes flash. Wally doesn't have the energy in him to laugh. Hell, he can't even muster the energy to be bitter. He only just notices the IV solution working into his arm. He hasn't eaten in hours.

"I'm important, huh?"

"Don't act like that." Roy's face pinches. "Of course you are."

"Explains why… this is the first… I've seen you… in a year."

There's an uncomfortable silence, but it's mostly on Roy's part. Wally can wait it out.

"I… didn't think you wanted to see me," Roy admits.

"I didn't." That was low. He shouldn't have said that. "I mean… I was happy… for you. I still am. Just… easier this way. Right?"

"You're so sure?"

This surprises him. "You're not?"

"No. I'm just used to it. Doing the right thing's a bitch."

Wally laughs and it hurts. He coughs. "The right thing… means ditching your old flame… for family." He smiles, but it takes effort. "I can… get that."

Roy's face, so rigid when Wally had first seen him come through the doorway, is now incredibly vulnerable. The change is startling.

"You're not… It's not like…" He shuts his mouth. "It was the right thing to do."

"For who?"

"For…" He doesn't finish the thought but his eyes glancing towards the door gives him away.

"This was… about him?" Really, Wally should stop being surprised. He should've known that Roy had never gotten over that. He never will. Despite that hard, angry exterior towards Arsenal, all Red Arrow's been doing since the day he realized he was cloned was give up everything for Roy. Giving it all back. His life, his identity, his mentor, his friends. What did that leave for himself?

"He… He lost everything, Wally. I took it."

"You didn't… know."

"Doesn't make it right. I'm fixing it." He swallows. "He gets his life back. Untouched. He gets the chances he never got… while he was away."

"Roy. We got to know you." Wally struggles to get the air necessary to make him understand. "There's enough room… for both of you. It's not… like you have to… leave."

"Yes, I do," Roy says gently, as he pushes Wally back. Wally's spine yields instantly. He's exhausted. But he has enough left in him to still want to know _why_.

"Why… did you come here then?" Roy looks shocked. "Why did you… come back? If you… wanted… to leave him alone?"

"Why? Because you were _dying_ , you idiot!"

"So?"

That one small word does what multiple screaming expletives over the years never accomplished. Roy crumples. That's the only word for it. He crumples completely.

"I love you," Roy whispers, raw. "That fucking makes it matter."

"I know you love me." Wally takes a few breaths to get his heart rate down. "But it's… not… enough." He hurries on before Roy's face pinches even further. "I was never… enough. Not when you… were looking… for the mole. Not when you… were trying to find Speedy. Not… when… you were hooked… on drugs." He closes his eyes, battered mentally and physically. "Lian… was enough. Jade was enough."

"Wally…"

But what. What else can he say? Everything Wally just said was true. Wally knows it. He's come to terms with it a long time ago. He's made peace.

"You don't… _need_ me. He _does_. And Lian needs _you_."

And that's the crux of it.

Roy wants to say something, Wally can tell. Wants to contradict him so badly. But that was the reason he'd done this all in the first place, wasn't it? Started a life of his own. A family of his own.

Lian. His own little person. Someone he hadn't stolen but _made_ , someone who had no connection to his (Speedy's) past.

"She's my _daughter_ ," Roy sighs. "I… She gave me purpose again. You're right."

Wally knows. He does.

"I'm sorry," Roy whispers, before bending down and pressing his lips to Wally's. And Wally doesn't fight it. He doesn't pull away, but works his lips weakly against Roy's. Letting Roy's tongue stroke over them, letting him slide against his teeth, into his mouth. Familiar.

God, he misses him.

But it's done. Whatever potential they had was gone.

"We had something good together," Roy mutters, sounding far away. "I fucked it up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made it hurt this much, for this long. I'm sorry I didn't make it work."

Yeah. Wally's sorry too.

"I can forgive you. I just can't… forget. I don't… want to." Wally sighs and says, with difficulty, "I… love you. But… I love him too."

"I know." Roy's eyes flash again, this time with familiar blue fire. "But if he pulls shit like that… If he can almost get you _killed_ … I didn't stand aside for him to fail you like that. He can't protect you."

"I don't… need… protecting… you asshole."

Roy coughs a quiet laugh, but Wally's not done. "I need someone… who'll stand by me. He… does that. He…" Wally smirks, tiredly. "He won't… fucking take… a hint. Or go… away. Persistent. Bull-headed. Just like you."

"He's not like me."

"No. He's not. He's like… how you… used to be."

Roy is quiet. "He's the original Speedy, after all."

"He goes by Arsenal now."

Roy snorts. "Tell me, do you go for guys that are dangerous, or just the ones who look like me?"

"Don't… know."

Roy's face softens. "Get some rest. I'll still be here when you wake up."

"Lian?"

"Jade can watch her. You're still important." He kisses Wally's forehead. "Sleep."

Wally wants to say more, but the lights are the wrong colors and he's sinking into the sheets. "Fine."

 

Star City  
July 17, 6:12 pm  
 **2017**

 

"Okay, here's the thing. I didn't know how many candles to get you, so I got you sparklers. Everyone likes those, right?"

Roy stares at the three layer cake with something close to disbelief. This is partially because every square inch that hasn't been heaped with frosting is spiked with showers of colored fire. The sparks hiss as they hit the tablecloth, and Lian laughs, clapping her hands together as she reaches for them. Red Arrow pulls her closer to himself, while Arsenal continues to stare at the cake.

"I helped him pick them out," Ollie throws out, showing up behind Wally to plop down a massive platter of ribs. Dinah shows up at his elbow with skewers of kabobs and rolls her eyes.

"You picked out the balloons. That was it."

Wally huffs. "Trying to steal credit for my work."

"This isn't coconut, is it?" Dick asks, braving the shower of sparks to swipe at the frosting with his finger. Wally smacks at his hand, and he withdraws, injured. "Dude, just asking."

"It's buttercream. I think. Or cream cheese. That's what the lady at the store said."

"Aren't those sparklers going to melt it then?"

"Oh shit, yeah. Hurry up and make a wish, Roy!" They both hesitate, looking to each other.

"You go first," Red Arrow offers formally.

"No, you," Arsenal repeats back, a little too stiff. "Please."

"You're both melting the cake the longer you take to decide," Cheshire says lazily as she takes Lian from Red Arrow. Her presence here today has been a tenuous truce between the League affiliated members of the party; Jade seems to enjoy herself regardless. It's hard to tell. She wears her mask of unruffled coolness like a second skin. Even if Wally catches her glancing oddly at him sometimes, he's learned by now to ignore it.

Wally can put up with a little awkwardness.

Thing is, they all _need_ this.

Wally can't stick his head in the sand any longer.

The sad truth is that he isn't much in the way of retired anymore. He's a hero. Always been one, always will be. And as a hero, the alien invasion of Earth has become something approaching a norm for him. Even if he'd never experienced something quite of this magnitude before, the fact remains that the world is falling apart and Wally is falling a little bit with it. He's actually supposed to be patrolling the city right now, but that can wait.

Kroloteans be damned.

Today was for Roy. Both Roys.

Because birthdays matter, and even if they're all run ragged, and Artemis and Kaldur are undercover and can't be here with them... This was meant to be a celebration. This was a peace-making. A ceasefire, a holiday, a truce.

Life kind of sucks majorly at the moment, which is why Wally is determined to make this work, dammit.

"Count of three," Dinah says decisively, and both Roys look up at her. "Start singing!" she hollers towards the rest of the party-goers.

They all manage to hastily speed through a chorus of _Happy Birthday_ before the sparklers glow red one last time and fizzle out.

"Crap," Wally sighs. "Hope you two caught that."

"Already made a wish," both of them say before glancing to each other.

"Jinx," Arsenal says, and the corner of Red Arrow's mouth twitches. Lian squeals with laughter.

"Well, great." Wally smiles. "Help me pick the candles out."

As M'gann and Dinah dish out the cake, Wally pulls a lawn chair up next to Arsenal and sits down. "Happy 16th, or 24th, or whatever. Try some of this, it cost me good money."

Arsenal intercepts the fork before it reaches his mouth, his fingers wrapping around Wally's.

"Dude, _tell_ me you like orange chocolate cake," Wally begs, looking aghast. "I _told_ Dinah we should've gotten the lemon one, but this one had _frosting_ and she said icing wasn't as good..."

"I love chocolate," Roy answers automatically, before blinking and releasing his hand. "Wait, no, that's not what I meant."

"Then what's the problem here?" Wally asks, popping the bite into his mouth.

Roy looks to the side. "I... _You_... Thanks," he manages softly, after a minute of floundering. "You didn't have to do this. I would've understood, you know, considering how the world's kind of gone to shit at the moment."

"Roy? It's your _birthday_." Wally's lips turn up wryly as he grips Roy's hand. "Your first _real_ birthday since..." He grimaces and doesn't complete the rest of that sentence, squeezing Roy's fingers instead. "Anyways, yeah. Today's for you and Red Arrow. I literally turned my communicator off and told the world to go suck it. You better appreciate that."

"I do. You have no idea..." Roy trails off, wordless. Instead he watches Ollie feed Dinah grilled mushrooms and bell peppers from the skewer. They look happy. "Today's been... God, today's been unbelievable." And Wally understands, from his stilted, not-quite-formed sentiments, what he's trying to convey.

"This means a lot to you, huh?"

"This meant a lot to _them_ ," and Roy's hand sweeps out to encompass the rest of the party. The lights M'gann had strung up on the back-porch burnished the dry grass, the shrubs, the smoking barbeque, the picket fence. Everything is shades of ink-blue mixed with copper. Everyone looks happy. Wally accidentally catches Red Arrow's eye from across the yard, and he holds his stare for a minute. Then Jade brushes up to him, drink in hand, and he smiles faintly before turning away.

"We all could use a break," Wally returns lightly.

"Yeah. Yeah we did." Roy stares across at him for a minute, before smiling brightly. He squeezes Wally's hand back. "So, what'd you get me?"

Wally laughs. "Big blue box. Come on."

And Wally takes his hand and leads him away.

_end._


End file.
